


Head in the Clouds

by SkartoArgento



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil (Movieverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Acrophobia, Ferris Wheel, Fluff, M/M, kind of a buildup to a threeway relationship I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkartoArgento/pseuds/SkartoArgento
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two of Sasha's fears come out to play when Jake and Leon decide to take him on a Ferris wheel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head in the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquarelle05](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarelle05/gifts).



  
  


“This is all right. We won't be that high.” Sasha said as the ground dropped away. The metal bar numbed his palm, and pressure built at the tips of his fingers. Over their heads, the chains that supported their cart jingled with vibration. The Ferris wheel swung them up, over the lights of the fair, over the heads of the crowd. So high. Was this really better than being down on the ground, watching them ride without him?

  
  


Opposite him, legs crossed and propped on the empty half of the other bench, Jake yawned, loud and fake. “Give it a damn rest, Bugman, all that muttering's getting boring.”

  
  


He opened his mouth to tell Jake what he could do with that nickname, but Leon’s hand on his knee shut it. Instead, he raised his eyebrows, gave Jake the kind of look he used to give unruly children at school. A kind of _I-won’t-say-anything-but-you’re-really-getting-on-my-_ nerves look. It could freeze an entire classroom, but Jake just slouched back in his seat and smiled.

  
  


Arrogant bastard.

  
  


The smooth motion of the wheel abandoned them, and their little cart became a ship rocked by swells. He ventured a peek over the edge and caught a glimpse of pinprick lights, like stars in the sky. Oh, Christ, it hadn’t looked so high from the ground. An old memory pricked him. He'd been eleven, or maybe twelve. Irina and Dmitri (a long time before the insistence of using JD as a alias) had dragged him along for a hike in the mountains. They’d passed by a gorge, a deep gash in the ground that looked as though it had been carved by the claw of some gigantic monster. So deep that the darkness ate the light and left brimming shadows. Dmitri, all curiosity and childish havoc, had thrown a rock down. They never heard it hit the bottom.

  
  


He had clung to the grass, trembling, flat on the ground as though the earth would tilt and tip him down into that abyss. Only a few times in his life had emotions felt that soul-ripping, that strong. Something inside flashed images in his brain of tumbling, down and down and down. Something inside whispered of all the time he would have to consider his death as he fell. Only Irina lying beside him, her hand in his, eyes so very blue and so very patient, persuaded him back to his feet.

  
  


And now that certainty of death returned, a helpless pressure that overrode all logic and bypassed his brain. His breath snagged, blood thudded in his ears. Ridiculous. He wasn’t in danger, he wasn’t going to die –

  
  


_You COULD, though, you COULD die, what if those chains snap, it’s a long way down, even if no one’s died riding one of these before it would just mean you’d be the first –_

  
  


“Sasha, you doing okay?”

  
  


He tore his gaze away from the floor of the cart. Strands of Leon’s hair caught the wind, blew in all directions. The hand never left his knee, but squeezed gently. Patient eyes, like Irina.

  
  


He turned away from those eyes, from Jake's knowing smirk, and focused on the floor again. “Fine.”

  
  


“Sure? You don't look too fine.”

  
  


“Ah, Bugman's just worried about falling out of the sky, aren't you?” He looked up just enough to catch Jake's wink. “Don't worry, these things are safe as houses. Watch –”

  
  


Before either of them could stop him, Jake slid off the bench and stood in the middle of the cart. “See? No problems. Now, if I did this –” to his horror, Jake pushed out with his feet, and the rocking became pitching “ – we might be in trouble.”

  
  


His hand holding the rail tightened to the point of pain. His other hand shot out, grabbed Leon's shoulder. Terror clenched his jaw shut. Any moment and they'd fall, any moment –

  
  


“Jake, stop it! Can't you see what it's doing to him?”

  
  


“What? Come on, it's a fucking fair ride, we're not going to fall.”

  
  


The careening subsided, and distantly he felt Jake sit down, but it didn't matter. He was back in the mountains, staring into that gorge, into that gap in the world where you could fall for so long that no one would hear when you hit the bottom. And there was no Irina here to lie next to him, hold his hand, smooth hair away from his sweaty forehead and whisper that it was all right, that it was –

  
  


“ –not even too high up. Not when you really think about it. We'll be back down before you know it.” Leon peered at him. “Sasha, are you listening to me?”

  
  


“Yes,” he said, but really he listened for the echo of that stone.

  
  


Leon's hand again, this time on his shoulder. More friendly than intimate. What he needed, but then the wheel rolled their little cart to the top.

  
  


They went _over –_

  
  


– and his terror swelled.

  
  


“I want to get off. I want to get off _right now._ ” He forced the words out from behind numb lips. Someone shrieked below them – probably an over-excited child in one of the other carts – and he flinched. 

  
  


Jake leaned over the side. “Go on then, off you get. Personally, I'm going to wait until this thing's stopped moving.”

  
  


“Sasha, just sit down and relax, we'll stop in a minute –”

  
  


“No, I said _now_!” 

  
  


When had he stood up? He teetered, the light swirling below. Colours dipped and spun.

  
  


“Jesus!” Someone grabbed his arms, pressed him back into his seat. “I wasn't serious about you jumping, Bugman.”

  
  


All he could do was stare straight ahead as the cart swayed them down. The dizziness ebbed, but his heart still felt on the verge of stopping. He gripped the bar again. As soon as they got to the bottom and the lock on the safety gate opened, he would jump out and never set foot on one of these things again, no matter who was with him.

  
  


The adrenaline faded as the ground approached. He shifted forward, eager for the click of the gate. But far from stopping, the cart shifted up again, swung the dizziness back. A jolt from his heart swallowed his gasp.

  
  


“Yeah, this thing's going to go round a few times.” Jake frowned at him. Better than acting like a smug bastard. “He really doesn't look good.”

  
  


Leon's breath tickled his ear. “Close your eyes.”

  
  


“Are you _mad?_ ” What if the chains started snapping? What if the cart did start to drop out of the air? If he saw it, maybe he could prevent it –

  
  


Leon's hand closed around his. Warm, unafraid. For a second, he caught the scent of Irina's perfume, jasmine, sweet and flowery, before the cold air snatched it away. He clutched Leon's hand as he had the bar, so tight every ridge of knuckle pressed into his fingers. Grief stole away any words.

  
  


“Trust me.” Leon's other hand crept back to his knee. He took one more look at Jake, who watched them with a concerned sort of interest, and closed his eyes tight. Stopped listening for the stone.

  
  


The motion reeled his stomach. Behind the black of his eyelids, his eyes still darted. Was that creak one of the supporting beams of the wheel failing? The cart definitely tilted, skewed to one side.

  
  


Pressure turned his head to the side. Hair brushed his forehead, then his cheek. A nose bumped his own. “I won't tell you not to be scared,” Leon whispered, voice rough, yet somehow smooth at the same time, “but I'm here. And so is Jake. And we're not going to let anything happen to you.”

  
  


No one could guarantee that. Anything could happen,  _ anything.  _ One day you stayed at home while your fiancée taught her class at the school, and the next they told you she was lying dead in the smouldering rubble with a dozen small bodies beside her.

  
  


He leaned back, but Leon leaned in.

  
  


Their lips met, dry and clumsy. Jaw scraped along jaw. His hand loosened, and Leon's thumb stroked along the edge of a finger. He shivered, and it had nothing to do with the climbing hight.

  
  


Leon's lips slid from his, went to the side of his neck instead. Not really the time or place for it, that was usually in their bed or on the sofa, but he turned his head and buried his face in Leon's hair anyway, took a deep breath to ease himself. After Irina, before Leon, he'd forgotten how much he missed casual intimate touching. It never really came easy to him. Months had flitted by before he could bring himself to give Leon a pat on the shoulder, let alone a kiss on the cheek. And now they were practically necking in public like hormone-addled teenagers on a date. How far he'd come.

  
  


Leon kissed him again, but there was nothing teenage about it. Rough, like the voice that crept into his ear, but also sure. Stubble rasped his lips. His fingers caressed the back of Leon's neck and feathered the tips of hair. So caught up, so eager to drown the fear and grief that he forgot about the sick jolt of going over the top until it happened.

  
  


He clutched the front of Leon's jacket, almost tipped them both off the seats. The cart swayed with his movement, and the strangled cry that formed in his throat came out as a soft gust of breath.

  
  


“Take it easy,” Leon said, and pressed him back into the seat. All that patience must have been born from practice at calming nervous – all right, _terrified_ – people down. 

  
  


The air tasted of toffee apples and the tang of ketchup when he breathed in. Still too high for his liking, but Leon's mouth edged up to his ear, kissed the lobe and nuzzled that sensitive spot behind it. He closed his eyes again.

  
  


“God. You know, if you're not going to jump, I might.” Jake sat with his arms draped over the back of the cart.

  
  


“Go ahead.” His own voice trembled just a little before the hint of tongue across his neck anchored him. Jake snorted, but behind the theatrical eye-rolling and posturing, interest flickered in lingering stares and shifting thighs. Maybe Leon saw it too, because with one last touch of tongue he said, “Jealousy's a real ugly thing, Jake. When you grow up a bit, you'll realise that spending time with other people is worth more than a shitty attitude.”

  
  


“You mean I'm going to want to make out in public when I hit my late forties too?” Jake's face pulled into a verging-on-tears expression. “Dammit, Hero, you're breaking my heart here. I think I'm gonna go fly away to Never Never Land.”

  
  


“Late forties. Mm-hmm.”

  
  


“Sorry. I meant early fifties.”

  
  


“He's such a little punk.” Leon nudged his arm. “We should send him back to school. You could teach him, I'd pay to see that.”

  
  


Walking in to a classroom to see Jake sitting at a desk featured in some of his darkest nightmares. He shrugged, hand still tight on Leon's jacket. The edge of fear had eased, but underneath, a hollow clench of his stomach reminded him of the meters between him and the ground.

  
  


Once more they reached the bottom and started to climb again. Without any prompting, Leon slipped an arm over his shoulders. He watched Jake watching them, and wondered what putting his own arm around Jake's shoulders would be like. Probably be met with aggressive indignation. Maybe, if they started out small –

  
  


The top. This time he held in a lungful of air, steeled himself, curled his fingers into Leon's arm.

  
  


They stopped. Caught at the very pinnacle of the wheel. Now that the cart wasn't moving, the space below them did. Vertigo formed a tight ball between his eyes, and even sitting he swayed. “What's going on?” Oh, he  _ hated  _ the knife-edge of hysteria behind those words. “Why have we stopped?”

  
  


Leon glanced over the edge of their cart (and how he wanted to pull him back, hold him in there so he didn't fall like that stone in the gorge) before turning back to him. “It's fine. They've just started letting people out, that's all. No breakdown or anything.”

  
  


Either way he didn't let go of Leon's arm until they started moving again. Every time they stopped, his hand found Leon's and clung so that he didn't feel as dizzy. When they reached the ground that final time, his relief left him drained, as though he had been crying instead of scared. He took two steps out and lurched to the side.

  
  


“Careful, Bugman.” Jake's arm went under, propped him up. “I think maybe next time we'll go to a nice petting zoo. Unless you're scared of ducks and ponies. If that's the case, we could set up our own little parasite zoo. You'd be the start attraction!”

  
  


It was Jake's way of saying 'sorry for acting like a bastard' to take the sting off a real apology. Usually it drove him mad, but this time he found he just didn't have the energy. They weaved their way around the attractions, the similarly fast-bright-high rides he turned his gaze from, and found a nice quiet spot on a picnic bench near a hotdog stand.

  
  


Leon offered the flask. He waved it away and Jake swooped down, took a long gulp of whatever was in there. Leon sighed and grabbed it back before Jake could drain the whole thing. “Maybe we should head back.”

  
  


“No.” He folded his arms on the table, tried to look serious while at the same time feeling like he could spend the next year in bed. “It was just something I... wasn't ready for. We can stay here. There are other things to do.”

  
  


“Sure!” Jake made another lunge for the flask before Leon whirled it away. “Dammit, Kennedy. Fine. Keep it. Anyway, thought I saw some shooting galleries back there. What say you two fine gents try to win me a nice fluffy teddy bear?”

  
  


“Flattery'll get you nowhere,” Leon said, and shook his head. “Well, if you're sure, Sasha, we can stay for another couple of hours.”

  
  


He nodded and got to his feet, knees protesting by sending him right back on his ass again. In a heartbeat, Leon supported one side and Jake the other. He said nothing, but the gesture touched him.

  
  


As they moved on from the table, he glanced up at the Ferris wheel. It didn't look nearly as high from down here, perhaps that had just been a distortion of unfair reality. The memory of Leon's lips pushed him away from the ride, just as Leon's hand led him after Jake. As unfair as it could be, reality was so much more preferable to memories.

  
  


When they reached the gallery, he stopped and turned Leon's face towards him under the over-bright lights. They kissed again, and this time he made sure to take it a little slower. One hand went to the small of Leon's back and pressed him close. The other went inside Leon's jacket, to where shirt rode up against skin.

  
  


“You still came with us,” Leon said into his neck, “even though you were scared?”

  
  


He stopped. His hands dropped back by his sides. Jake was too far away, too busy examining the fake guns at the gallery to hear them. “Don't tell him.”

  
  


“Promise.”

  
  


“He could handle it, I think. Being left on the ground by himself.”

  
  


One of Leon's fingers stroked across his cheek. “That's why you came? Oh, Sasha. We wouldn't've held it against you.”

  
  


“It is stupid, yes? Childish. I wasn't scared of- of _her,_ but... being so high in the air...” The words clenched in his throat. “Forget about it.”

  
  


“Sounds like you're more scared of being left behind.”

  
  


He couldn't meet Leon's eyes, watched Jake instead. “Everyone else left me. Usually when I least expected it. I won't let that happen again. If you leave, I will leave with you.”

  
  


Leon said nothing. A hand gripped his, held him tight.

 

“Hey, you two. Knock off that lovey-dovey stuff, huh?”

  
  


Jake put one hand on his shoulder, one hand on Leon's, and steered them towards the line of plastic guns. “Come on, I want the purple one.”

  
  


Leon caught his eye. Smiled. “I'm not going anywhere, Sash. But let's get our overgrown child something fuzzy before he tries to steal it.”

  
  


He stood back with Jake while Leon lined up the first shot. They could promise not to go anywhere, but none of them really knew. But caught between being left behind and riding high with them, what was worse?

  
  


Jake's hand trailed up his back, then clapped him on the shoulder. He looked across, and the returning smile hit like the stone at the bottom of the gorge. He had his answer.

  
  


After a lingering kiss on his temple, Jake bumped against his shoulder and yelled over to Leon, “Shoot straight, Hero!”

  
  



End file.
